Keir
Watching the spreading fire through the eyes of a ghost flying high above the camp, Keir smiled at his work. He'd never tried to animate a forest before, the challenge had been interesting. Of course he'd never been near a forest where virtually all of the plants were dead. He wasn't sure if he should find the creation of poison gas on such a scale interesting or terrifying.
The death energy created by the rapid death of so many lives had made the ritual possible. He'd mostly had to act as a conduit for the magical energy, using his power to shape it properly. Looking around with his magic sight, he could see that he'd used up a large amount of the energy. So he wouldn't be able to pull off the same trick anytime soon.
His ghostly maid, Hanina handed him a cup of cold sweet tea she'd made during the ritual. Sipping the drink he allowed himself to relax. All the casting today had been tiring. His three mage assistants were sleeping like the dead. He'd used up most of their magic one after the other, cutting them off from the ritual as they neared their limit. With a good night sleep and spending the next day travelling in a wagon they would be right as rain. He'd go to sleep soon as well, after it was clear the demons were defeated. And resting in the back of a well padded wagon until they reached the city didn't sound like such a bad idea.
His bodyguards, the living and the dead were dark shadows against the tent, silhouetted by the raging fire that surrounded them. It was nothing like his honour guard from his past. Still it was a decent start. They were proven soldiers, and loyal. If only he had fifty thousand just like them.
Right now he had some freedom, because the situation was so desperate and the Lleial were too important to cast aside. Once they reached civilization, his tenuous strength would vanish. The fact he was a woman now would weaken his position even more. Female mages and clergy were important, and not to be ignored. But as a war leader? As generals? That was different.
Looking down at his hands, the few callouses were new, the muscles weak. This had been the body of some highborn lady or a lady's maid. Healthy enough, but with no strength. He'd need to rely even more on his words and magic to gain respect from the soldiers and people, and even then they may only see him as a pretty figurehead.
Turning his eyes upwards, he frowned. “You couldn't let me rest and enjoy my life could you?” he asked the heavens. “There always has to be one more challenge, one more threat.”
There was no response. He hadn't expected one.
Hanina wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. He hadn't realized how cold he was until the warm wool touched his skin.
Finishing his tea, he bent down to pull off his boots. The demons were defeated, the last thousand or so survivors who were still capable of fighting would be killed soon enough.
There was a flash of light outside the tent. Where a spectral guard had been, a vaguely humanoid shadow of utter darkness stood.
“Assas-” Floria started shout. It was cut off by the sound of a pistol.
There was the sound of metal on metal, followed by a scream. Blood sprayed against the tent.
Drawing his sword, Keir got to his feet, creating a magical shield around himself. It seemed the demons had their own tricks.
***
Floria
Lieutenant Floria fingers stroked her pistol. The sounds of war called to her. She should be there, killing the demons who had destroyed her people. She took a few steps away from the entrance to the tent to make sure Sergeant Pol and Private Biel were awake and focused on their duty. If they weren't, she'd tear a strip from their hides and make them regret being born.
They seemed alert enough, their rifles held lightly in their arms ready to be used. Looking outward for any potential threats. The four ghostly soldiers The Regua had created were standing utterly still. She knew they were on her side and would fight any danger until they were destroyed, but the lack of breathing, shifting of the body, and their utter silence was unnerving.
Turning back to her own position, she resisted the urge to yawn. Private Sofia was standing by her side, and it wouldn't do to show tiredness in front of her.
The deepening shadows of twilight made it hard to make things out. The raging fires didn't help matters, ruining her night sight. The shadows were moving strangely, almost unnaturally. She found her fingers stroking her pistol again.
There was a flash of light behind her. Turning to look, a gasp of pain made her spin around, drawing her pistol.
Sophia was slumping to the ground, clutching her torn throat.
“Assas-” Floria began to shout. A shadow appeared before her, the only bit of colour on it were the silver claws, red with blood.
Her pistol rose and fired without hesitation, putting a bullet into the chest of the demon. From the back of the tent she heard Pol and Biel fighting. There was another flash of light.
The demon that had killed Sophia, slapped her hand before she could fire a second shot. It drove it's claws into her stomach. She felt them enter her, but there was no pain, just anger. The demons had killed her family. They had killed her soldiers. They were not going to kill the Regua.
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Her free hand grabbed the back of the demons neck. She pressed herself against the loathsome thing, not letting it free it's claws. Twisting her hand, pointing the pistol in what she hoped was the right direction, she fired again.
The demon jerked as the bullet hit flesh. It pushed her away, its claws digging deeper into her stomach.
Floria fell to the ground, raising her pistol she fired again.
One of the surviving ghosts appeared behind the demon, driving its sword into its back. The demon didn't make a sound. It's limbs jerked, and twisted, so it was facing the ghost. It's claws glowed red, slicing into the ghost, making it explode in a flash of light.
Struggling to keep her pistol raised, she emptied the clip into the demon. It finally fell.
Trying to get to her feet, she realized the tent was torn open. The sound of fighting came from inside it. Where were her people? Where was anyone?
Reaching into her ammo belt, she pulled out a new magazine. It was slick from her blood. Shakily she tried to reload her pistol.
***
Keir
Keir felt his connection to his ethereal bodyguards get severed, one after the other.
Through the tent canvas he saw three pitch black figures, slaughtering his guards. They radiated magic, moving with a grace he'd seldom seen before. Raising his hand he started to create more ghosts. The tent was torn open before he could complete the spell.
He barely had enough time to raise his sword before the shadowy demon was on top of him. Sparks flew as he parried a swipe from the vicious claws that were more like daggers. His shield absorbed the blow from the other set of claws. There was a surge of magic pressing against his shield, trying to overload it.
The demon seemed surprised when his magic didn't fail. Using the distraction he kicked the demon in the knee. It was like kicking rock.
The three mages who had been asleep, yelled at the sight of the demon. One of them started to cast a spell, only to have his face torn off by a kick from the demon. The other two scrambled to escape.
Hanina struck at the demon with a ghostly knife. It backhanded her, ripping apart the magic that held her together.
Gunshots erupted from outside the tent. Keir hoped that meant help was coming, as he ducked, parried and blocked the demon. If it wasn't for his shield he'd already be dead five times over. There was no time to cast a spell. It was all he could do to keep his shield up.
Canvas was shredded and a second demon stepped into the tent, it's claws dripping with blood.
Keir launched himself at the new demon, trusting in his magic to keep him alive long enough to kill the new monster before it could attack.
He was brought up short as the first demon caught his arm, whipping him to the ground.
The impact knocked the air out of him.
In desperation he brushed his hand against the demons leg, he'd absorb its soul and deal with the consequences later.
Nothing happened.
The demon didn't have a soul. It was a creature of pure magic, barely contained in a physical shell. They fell on him, tearing at his shield, not giving him even a second to weave a spell.
***
Von
Von ran towards the fighting. He wasn't the only person running to protect Keir, at least a dozen soldiers and several mages all had the same thought.
From the shadows a demon appeared. It was nearly impossible to see in the dim light, moving from shadow to shadow, its silver claws flashing, cutting flesh and slicing through limbs of anyone that it passed by.
Fear almost paralyzed him, the demons had sent their assassins. He hadn't thought there were any in the region, from the shouting in the tent there had to be more than one. He'd only heard of them working in pairs before, and that was when they had already tried and failed to kill a target with a single assassin.
Weaving two spells, his sword erupted in flame and a shield surrounded him. Ready for battle he charged the demon.
The assassin saw him coming and went to meet him. As he'd hoped, instinct had taken over the thing, it had been created to kill mages and aside from Keir, he was the strongest mage in the camp.
The other mages cast their spells. The demon dodged most of them, the ones it couldn't, it seemed to absorb, slowing down momentarily before shaking off the blows. To kill the demon they had to get in close and make it bleed.
“Protect Keir!” he shouted.
The demon struck at him, using its fantastic speed to get past his defence. He was ready for it, twisting to the side at the very last second. His flaming sword rose, missing the creature but burning its arm.
A soldier fired at the demon, catching it in the back. Using the distraction, Von pressed his attack, steel and claw lashed out. The demon was fast, avoiding most of the blows. In return Von's shield flashed and sparked as claws ran across its surface.
There were screams from the tent, followed by the sound of guns firing. He wanted to see what was happening, but if he took his eyes off his opponent, he would die. Sweat poured down his face as he pushed more magic into his shield.
He was being forced back by the demon, his magic draining at a terrifying speed.
Then an arm wrapped around the demons throat. The soldier who had shot the thing, was hanging from the demons back plunging his knife into its side.
Von stabbed the assassin in the chest, careful not to pierce it all the way through. With a thought he made the flames heat up, burning the monster from the inside.
It seemed to take forever for the demon to die. It's body turning into powder and blowing away in the hot winds coming from the fire that surrounded the camp.
At the tent it was a mad melee of blood and steel. Two demons, one of them clearly injured, were holding back the defenders, while inside the tent Keir screamed.
Racing to the tent, Von forced himself to ignore the bodies and cries of pain that rose up around him. Only Keir mattered.
He found the necromancer struggling against a demon, her sword lost, gripping the things arm. Her shield was flaring as claws raked against it. Long thin cuts covered her back where the tips of the claws broke through.
He couldn't stab the demon, there was too much of a risk he'd hit Keir. Weaving a spell fire covered his hands. Grabbing the assassin, he tried to wrench it off of the necromancer.
The demon twisted its arms, forgetting its target. Claws raked against Von's shield. Through the flames, he saw the claws glow red. For a moment his shield held, then it seemed to shatter and he felt the razor sharp blades pierce his body.
His muscles tensed, he couldn't move. But his mind still worked, the demon had to die. He sent more magic into the flames around his hands. He screamed as his flesh burned.
The demon writhed in his hands, as paralyzed from pain as he was.
It finally died, turning into ash and smoke. He fell to the ground, curling into a ball, trying to protect his hands and body.
He saw Keir get to her feet, blood dripped from her clothes. She was saying something, her sword rose into the air, the air crackled around it. He watched as it flew from the tent, there were shouts and screams, then silence.
It was getting hard to breathe. At least the pain was gone.
Keir fell to her knees beside him, placing her hands on his chest. “I'm terrible at healing, but I'm not about to let you die. The only person who gets to kill you is me, and I'm going to savour the moment when I do,” she growled.
Magic surged through him. There was pain and a deathly cold, then there was nothing.